


But I’m Hardly Stood Proud

by bi_leigh_bi



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: A Meandering and Pornagraphic stroll through emotional healing, Light Choking, M/M, Mentions of exhibitionism, Porn with Feelings, Sort Of, Talking Out Trauma During Sex, it should be a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25576597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bi_leigh_bi/pseuds/bi_leigh_bi
Summary: Neither of them can shake what’s happened. In an attempt to help them both, Nicky follows through on his suggestion to return to Malta, taking Joe back to a place with only good memories. One to the few places like that which exist for them.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 29
Kudos: 188





	But I’m Hardly Stood Proud

They had been young.

They had been young when they met on the killing field, one couldn’t call it a battle. It wasn’t that. It had been a massacre. Niccolò had been the enemy, righteous and hateful, invading a land that wasn’t his. But when Yusuf thought back now he thought he could remember Nicky being hesitant, alarmed, looking very much like a young man realizing his world was not what he had been taught and that he was in over his head.

He’d once asked Nicky if he thought that was why Joe had gotten the upper hand on him. Why Joe had gotten the killing blow first- though Nicky’s sword had been true right after, even as the blood bubbled past his lips. They had died side by side. And woken up the same.

But Nicky had lovingly told him he was giving him too much credit- for both the conscience and skill he might have possessed at the time. Joe wasn’t so sure. Nicky held himself to a standard no one could hope to meet. Especially not that angry, hateful, confused man he’d been. But he held that standard _because_ of who he had been, what he done and what he had believed. So perhaps Joe _was_ romanticizing.

They’d killed one another again and again. It had been confusing, terrifying, infuriating. But it had also felt like a calling from Allah that he hadn’t felt before they first clashed swords. He’d had his faith- he still did, stronger now than it had been- but he hadn’t joined the fight because of a calling or even for his faith. He’d joined because he’d been needed. Every able body had been needed. And because Jerusalem had not been the land of his birth but had been his home for some years by then. Because the sights and sounds and colors reminded him of home. Because it was right.

It wasn’t until the first time Niccolò had killed him and he’d woken again that he felt any will of Allah. How many times had they killed one another, how long that they hated one another, before he realized that calling was not to destroy but to understand? To love? To _forgive_? 

He’d held on to his hate for many years, even after they’d made a peace of sorts. Even after they’d decided they were stuck with one another. He’d been furious, rightly so. What Niccolò’s people had done, the damage they’d caused, the massacres... he didn’t know how to reconcile that with the man he was watching Niccolò slowly become.

Because there were years of teaching each other; their languages, their weapons, their ways of hunting and surviving. And as Nicky had learned and grown... finally something in Yusuf twisted and changed. 

He realized he didn’t hate Niccolò anymore and hadn’t for some time. He _loved_ him, even when he was furious with him. Loved his wit and how determined he was to learn Yusuf’s language. Loved him for his guilt, even. And he realized he would die and kill for him. 

For Yusuf, their connection- especially once he’d realized what it was he felt for Niccolò- had brought him a deeper faith in Allah. To know they were meant for one another in the deepest way. Soul calling to soul, despite all their differences. And every year that Nico grew and accepted and softened and learned, Yusuf loved him more and more. 

Watching as Nicky taught Nile how to use his longsword, it was impossible to not think about it. To not remember it all. The calm way Nicky had taught him to hold the unfamiliar weapon. The way he’d feigned confidence when learning Yusuf’s. The face he’d made the first time Yusuf read him poetry written by a man for a man. Ah, Joe smiled wider. That face. Some memories fade. Those had not.

He imagined the last month wouldn’t either. He shuddered and pushed those thoughts away. They were not for this moment. 

This moment was for joy and he cheered loudly as Nile disarmed Nicky. Nicky was taking it easy on her, but to be fair an ordinary person wouldn’t have been able to do what Nile just did. She shook her head at him and wiped the sweat from her brow, but she was grinning.   
  


“That’s enough for today, hmm?” Nicky took the sword from her and motioned her inside.   
  


She didn’t argue, just gently pushed his shoulder with hers and ran up the steps past Joe. He got a tap to the shoulder as well and he smiled.   
  


“She’s good,” Nicky sighed, tired, standing over him. “Young. But good.”   
  


“We were young once,” Joe argued, hands reaching, looking to see that they were alone before grasping Nicky’s hips.   
  


“That was a very long time ago,” Nicky said, laughing.

Joe smiled. “I was thinking of how we taught each other then; our languages, our weapons.”

”How to love, to touch,” Nicky said, leaning down to kiss Joe softly. Joe hummed his agreement and kissed him back. “How to not be a hateful ass, in my case.” Joe scoffed at him. Nicky continued, his expression more serious, voice subdued. “It’s been over a month and you’re still too quiet,” He commented carefully. “Maybe Andy has not noticed and Nile doesn’t know you well enough but I know you as I know myself. Yusuf, you’re still bothered.”

This was true. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was. Since Booker had betrayed them and was banished, since Andy became mortal, since he and Niccolò had been used as lab rats and he’d watched his lovers head-

Joe wasn’t usually one for holding grudges- when it came time to decide how to punish Booker, he had said a fifty year banishment and it had been Nicky, always quiet and cold in his anger, who had said one hundred in a tone that left no room for argument and it had been Andy who nodded in agreement- but fucking Booker, that son of a bitch. 

He would forgive. It was his nature to do so and Booker was family. Lost and scared and a little pathetic, but family. He doubted they would hold out the entire one hundred years, not even Nicky. But right now it was all too new and Joe- he knew he wasn’t the only one- was too angry to be kind. 

“He was right, you know?” Joe said finally, looking up at Nicky. He was so beautiful. The most beautiful man Joe had or would ever see and he loved him in ways that he could not put into words. There were not enough languages to put it into words. An eyebrow cocked in question and Joe continued. “Booker. We have always had each other. I can’t imagine this long life without you.”   
  


Nicky wanted to argue, Joe could see it, but he waited. Joe tried to decide if that was all he had to say at the moment. He tugged at Nicky’s hips and he all but collapsed into Joe’s lap, straddling his thighs, long legs folded beneath them. It was a little awkward, but they’d held one another in far less comfortable positions. Long fingers pushed into Joe’s curls and his eyes fell shut. He remembered the delight in Nicky’s eyes the first time he’d done this. Run his fingers through his hair, touched his face. Let himself touch as he’d wanted to.

”But I thought I had lost you,” he said. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I cannot live this life without you and yet that is what he condemned us to. I’m so angry at him for that. And I don’t like feeling this angry. We may lose Andy and Nile only just found us. I don’t want their last and first impressions of me to be hateful.”

Nicky made a soft noise. “You are never hateful,” he argued.

”You know that's not true. I have felt hate. I feel it now as much as I feel my love for him. He could have talked to us. Perhaps we should have talked to him more. He should have turned his damned self in and let us be. But right now I do not care. I hate him for what was done to you. For what he did to Andy. For tearing our family apart.”

Nicky didn’t argue and Joe was grateful. He kept his fingers running over Joe’s hair and it brought so much comfort that Joe let it all go just for a few moments, tilted his head into his touch. He closed his eyes and breathed him in, he smelled so good. But he could so viscerally remember the smell of blood in his hair, bits of his skull falling onto the shower floor. He jerked his head up and his eyes opened wide.

”Joe _,_ ” Nicky said softly, almost chidingly. “We’re free.”

But Joe could see it in Nicky's eyes too. A darkness. A weight. An anger. Nicky was so kind but once crossed? It lingered and built. But whatever he was going to say he didn’t. Instead his fingers dragged down and gently dug into the back of Joe’s neck, working the tense muscles. And Joe could swear he could feel the love in every touch. Knew that where Nicky might not find the words, he would still show him. 

”Every time I died in that lab it was to the sound of you holding back screams, your pain, or worse your silence as you tried to shield me from your pain. I saw the pieces of you they cut out and kept and labeled. I saw you die. I couldn’t get to you, I couldn’t stop them. And then that man shot you-“ Joe stopped himself. 

It was, all of it together, too much. Right now, it was too much. 

He couldn’t shake it. The betrayal, knowing it was Booker who had put them in that position. It wasn’t okay. And he didn’t know how to make it okay. And as much as Nicky wanted for him to move past it Joe knew it haunted him too. Knew he woke from nightmares, wordlessly asking to be held. Desperate to touch and kiss and cling, a particular kind of desperate they had not been in many years 

Nicky pushed himself up and out of Joe’s lap just as the door opened. Andy poked her head out and looked between them both. 

”I’m ordering sushi, you in?” she asked.

“Is this your way of telling me you’re tired of my cooking?” Nicky asked.

“I would never be,” she said. “But Nile has a craving and well-“ She shrugged her shoulders. 

Nicky nodded and Joe after him. Joe didn’t care what they ate. Nile was still mourning the life she’d had to leave behind. If sushi might make her feel better, he’d eat as much as she wanted. The door closed and Nicky offered Joe his hand. With a sigh Joe took it and stood.

“Do you remember when I said I was thinking about Malta,” Nicky asked, letting his forehead rest against Joe’s. “Let’s go, hmm? Tomorrow. Andy can spend time with Nile, let them bond.”

Joe closed his eyes, melted into Nicky. He nodded, letting his lips graze the other man’s lips. Malta. He wanted to go to Malta. Maybe if they went away a while he could let it go. He let his head drop to Nicky’s shoulder, turned his face into his neck and breathed him in. 

“ _We have dealt with so much worse, and better yet, we have been blessed with so much better. As long as I have you, that is all I need in this world_.” Nicky said softly, in an Arabic dialect so old no one would recognize it now. Joe could remember clearly when he’d barley been able to speak it at all.

Smiling softly now, he kissed Nicky again. “Let’s go to Malta.”

”Tomorrow,” Nicky promised.

* * *

* * *

Two days later Joe woke to the bright sun rising and cool air coming into the room, bringing with it the smell of salt water. Just a steep cliff drop below them the ocean was throwing itself against the rocks. The sound was violent but somehow calming. He blinked, dark eyes taking in the sight of Nicky beside him. He was asleep on his stomach, arms under his pillow. And Joe had spent the whole night draped halfway atop him. His face was turned towards Joe, soft and at ease. Joe lifted his hand, his fingers carding so gently through the hair at the back of Nicky’s head.

He didn’t think anyone had ever blown out the back of Niccolò’s head like that before. Not in a thousand years. There had been many horrifying and violent deaths. This was not the first time Joe had been so very shaken by the way Nicky died. In truth, he was always shaken... but...

He pressed his palm against the back of his skull, let his fingers spread so that he was cradling Nicky’s head. 

“Its okay, _rouhi_ ,” Nicky said sleepily, eyes opening, meeting Joe’s. Bright blue this morning, when only last night they had seemed storm grey. Clear and alert. Nicky woke so quickly. “I’m okay.”

”I know,” he said, leaning down to press his lips to Nicky’s forehead, his temple. His fingers dragged through his hair, followed the curve of his skull. “What if you had not been? What if it changed you?”

”Yusuf, I have taken a sword to the head, a dagger into my brain, my skull was beaten in with that rock once by a certain-“ Joe made a desperate sound and Nicky cut off with a soothing noise. “Why would this be different?”

His stomach had dropped again. He did not like thinking about those times either. Especially not the hurt they’d inflicted on one another. They might laugh about it these days but still... some deaths stayed with you. Those times... he shuddered. Nicky turned onto his side, wrapped one long leg around Joe’s hip and Joe groaned softly as their bare bodies slid together. Nicky’s fingers traced down his forehead, his nose, dragging against his lower lip. Joe pressed a kiss to the pads of his fingers.

”You act as if I didn’t see your face as we lay on those cots. I know your face when you worry for me, _ya qamar._ This wasn’t just any old job gone sideways,” Joe argued, still kissing those beloved fingers. “It was different.”

Nicky’s face softened, he shuddered lightly and swallowed loudly in the quiet room. He pressed even closer, his hand cupping Joe’s face now, thumb rubbing across his beard. Joe closed his eyes and breathed deeply. 

Nicky breathed out heavily and Joe felt some fight in Nicky just give way. “I didn’t think I would hold you again. It broke me to imagine our lives would be nothing but that. Pained, tortured, trapped. Watching each other suffer.” He let his forehead rest against Joe’s and Joe breathed him in. “I do know why it haunts you. I’ve woken every night just to watch you breath. You died so many times on that bed, tied down, where I couldn’t get to you. So many times.” Nicky’s voice had a harder edge to it when he spoke again. “I’m angry. At Booker. At Merrick and Copley. It is why I could not suffer a lesser punishment for Booker, after the way he betrayed us. But you- we- can’t let it consume us.” His voice went soft again. “We are still here.”

Joe didn’t ask why then had Nicky been trying to downplay it. To convince him it was fine. He knew it had been for Joe’s benefit. That he had hoped it would help more if he played it cool and calm. He also knew Nicky didn’t want to talk about all that had happened and how it had stayed with him. But this was not one of those times where downplaying what had happened could help. 

”I cannot live this life without you,” Nicky said softly, an echo of the sentiment Joe had expressed only two days earlier. “You and I... we have always had one another, yes. Maybe not those first few deaths, hmm? But after. He thinks that makes this easier and it does. But it makes it harder too. The fear that every death brings, there are no words for it. He doesn’t understand that. He envies our love with no respect for how we must fight for it, to keep it, how hard won it was in the first place. The pain I caused you. How long it took us to find this. He doesn’t _know._ He is a child, still, in so many ways and a hurt one. But his hurt doesn’t mean he can hurt us, hurt _you_. I do not know how to trust him with you. With Andy or Nile. Not even in one hundred years.” 

Joe’s voice was barely a whisper, “seeing your eyes lifeless steals my breath and kills me all the same.”

”There is no me without you,” Nicky murmured. “As long as you live, I live.”

Joe’s leg slid between Nicky’s and Nicky groaned softly. Joe wrapped one around his waist, his hand spread out across Nicky’s lower back. Nicky was still watching him with sharp eyes. Those beautiful eyes. 

“It was as true at one hundred and two hundred years as it is now. I wouldn’t leave you behind now,” Nicky continued. He sighed a little, his thumb brushing Joe’s cheek. “It may have been taught hatred that brought me to your lands, but it was God that brought me to you. Your heart to my heart. No betrayal can break that.”

”My gift from Allah,” Joe said softly. Pressing his forehead to Nicky’s, nosing at his cheek. “The air in my lungs.”

”The blood in my veins,” Nicky whispered. “We survived, _amore mio_ , we live. I hold you in my arms again, and I feared I would not.”

Bright eyes moved over his face and Joe watched him even as he was watched. Long ago they had done this across a small fire, sitting on the cold ground. After their first kiss, before the first time they had made love. Nicky had said it was a learned hate- a hate actively taught, his entire life- that had brought him to war against Yusuf’s people. And it had taken time, even after they had stopped killing one another, after they had learned to trust, even after they had fallen in love, for those prejudices to be entirely unlearned. Now when they looked at each other this way there was nothing between them but love. A deeper understanding than any normal love could allow.

They didn’t say the words lightly. _Destiny_. _Meant to be_. That they were one and the same soul. They meant it with everything they had. And it only meant the fear of one day losing one another was all encompassing. The price they paid for having found another. For loving and being loved. 

A price happily paid, in the end. For Joe could not imagine never having his Niccolò. A price happily paid even if it meant losing a brother who blamed their love for his loneliness. Worth any price in the world.

” _Sei tutto per me_ ,” Nicky said quietly, still looking at him so seriously. “My beautiful Yusuf. With his kind eyes and his warm laugh.” Cool fingertips touched the place Joe knew laugh lines often showed when he smiled. Which he did now. “Lips I want to kiss every time I look at you. You should know that your kiss too, thrills me. Delights me. That I need it as much now as I ever did when we first came together. Like air.”

”You’re making me blush,” Joe murmured. 

”I like when I can make you blush,” Nicky said, leaning in to close the distance between them. “I am not often afforded the delight. I cannot always find the words.”

His kiss was soft but hungry all the same. He pushed gently until Joe rolled onto his back and Nicky followed to balance over him. Still kissing, harder now and sharper. Shifting to settle on Joe’s hips, cocks slowly hardening, dragging together in a way that made Joe moan against his lips. His hands moved up Joe’s arms, caught his hands and pushed them down into the mattress above his head.

There was a small smirk on his lips when he broke the kiss and he rolled his hips down into Joe’s again and Joe moaned, letting it out this time, eyes falling shut. Only for a moment, a second, because he couldn’t take his eyes off Nicky. Nicky who leaned down to kiss Joe’s neck, butterfly touches all the way down to his collar bone. One hand holding one of Joe’s, the other trailing fingers down his chest, finding a nipple and toying with it until it was hard and stiff. And Joe did his best lay still, to follow the silent command to not move. 

Nicky’s mouth found the other nipple and he bit down, just sharp enough to make Joe jerk and yelp. 

Nicky’s eyes met his. He saw the question, saw Nicky reading his face and finding the answer there. Joe didn’t need Nicky to speak the words he couldn’t always find. Joe always heard him anyways. Always. Nicky pulled their joined hands off the mattress and to his lips. He kissed each knuckle, then his wrist. The same soft kisses he’d given his neck, he trailed down his arm.

“I don’t understand why,” Joe whispered. And Nicky brought their lips together for a soft and quick and gentle kiss. “He knew it was our greatest fear, to be trapped like that. If they had taken you from me- I don’t know which is worse. Watching you or not being able to be with you.” Tears burned in his eyes. He didn’t want to feel this way anymore. 

Nicky kissed his brow and his eyes fell shut. Their bodies pressed closer and he let out a shuddering breath. That conflicting feeling- how much he desired Niccolò and the anguish that spread through his every vein.

Nicky reached to the bed side table. Their oils still there from last night. He pulled away only to pull the top off a bottle with his teeth. He took Joe’s hand in his and poured some on his fingers, letting his fingertips coat his. It made Joe’s breath catch.

” _Touch me_ ,” he murmured, so quiet, in old Italian. “ _However you need to_.”

Joe’s chest heaved in a silent sob. Last night had been almost mindless. It had been loud and rough and then soft again after, it had been everything they never had time for when they were on a mission. But this was different. This was everything they hadn’t talked about since they’d been taken. The things they’d pushed aside in favor of training Nile and waiting for Andy to heal. 

Slick fingers trailed down Nicky’s spine. Feeling each rise and dip of bone beneath such soft skin. Every inch of him familiar. _Home_. He pushed his fingers between his plump cheeks and found him messy and slick still from the night before and it only made him harder. He pushed two fingers in- slow and careful, still- and Nicky’s back arched, his head falling back on a cry of pleasure.

Joe’s other hand came to rest against the base of Nicky’s neck before moving up. Long fingers wrapping around the delicate column of pale skin. Not hard, just enough for Nicky to feel his grip. He moved his fingers in and out of his tight heat. Nicky swallowed and Joe could feel it. It reminded him of the beginning. They’d choked each other to death once. Hands wrapped around each other’s neck. One of the last times. They’d been pressed so close, panting and furious and half hard and when they’d come to life again they’d scrambled from each other as if burned. It would be years, many years, before they would actually admit how much they wanted one another. 

”I don’t want to leave here ever again,” Joe said, adding another finger, watching Nicky’s skin flush. “I don’t want to fight anymore, I don’t want to do anything but spend the next nine hundred years touching you, loving you.”

”Then we won’t leave,” Nicky gasped, looking down into Joe’s dark eyes. Joe’s hand tightened just for a moment around Nicky’s neck. Nicky moaned. “We don’t have to go anywhere.”

It was a fantasy. They would do exactly as they’d been doing. And they would return to their family, to Andy and Nile. But in just this moment, they could pretend, in this moment they could mean it with their whole hearts. But he did wonder... how long would they have together if they just stopped... dying. 

“I don’t want to see his face again. If he even looks at you I might kill him. Over and over. I don’t think I can stand it.” He let his hand drop from Nicky’s neck, trailing down his chest. “And all the same I want him to see. To know what our love truly looks like. To hear you gasp and moan, to see how pink your skin gets. How dark blue your eyes get when I’m fucking you, when you’re fucking me. I want him to see that all of his jealousy and stupid pettiness can’t touch us. This. You and I.”

He didn’t mean it, he never wanted to share this. But there was something about the idea that appealed to him at the moment. They’d never hid their love but it wasn’t as if they’d fucking thrown it in his face. That Booker had used it against them- as a reason for what he’d done- it was cruel.

He fucked Nicky slow and steady with his fingers. Their eyes locked, Nicky’s gaze so open and trusting. If it was something Joe really wanted would he do it? Yes, Joe thought he would- they’d gone through a bit of a exhibitionist period at one point. But he didn’t mean it now. He was just so angry. Even now he could remember Nicky’s lifeless eyes, the blood all around him.

”Yusuf,” Nicky begged quietly, bringing Joe back to him. “I need you.”

Joe nodded, gently sliding his fingers from him. With shaking hands Nicky took the oils and slicked Joe’s cock. Joe hissed, hips jerking. Nicky shifted over him, raised his hips, and so slowly began to sink down onto Joe’s cock.

” _I love you, Niccolò. I love you. I love you. I love you_.” The languages shifted, the words stayed the same. 

“I love you,” Nicky whispered, leaning down to catch Joe’s lips as he began to move. 

And then it didn’t matter. Any of it. All that mattered in his world was this. This man he loved beyond reason, beyond language, beyond measure. Nothing could ever be enough to show Nicky how immensely he loved him. Oh, but he could try. He pushed up on one elbow and wrapped his arm around Nicky’s back, pulling him closer. He rocked up into him, met his sweet slow rhythm. 

It felt good, safe. Nicky’s hands caught his face and they locked eyes again. His chest ached. If there was divinity on this earth, made flesh, it was his Niccolò. He didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until Nicky was shaking his head, hips working a little faster, taking Joe so deep inside of him. 

“ _We_ ,” came the soft and ancient Arabic it had taken Nicky so long to learn. “ _Between us, this love, this is divinity. No matter what the world, what those who supposedly love us, may think_ ,” Nicky whispered. “ _Between us there is divine love_.” 

Joe was teary eyed again but he didn’t care. Nicky caught his lips without losing the rhythm. And Joe groaned against his lips, his fingers splaying across Nicky’s back. Their bodies touching in every way they could. Moving together as one. Nicky was so tight and hot and slick around him. Perfect. His hand dragged lower, curled around the perfect curve of his ass and his fingers teased right there- right where Nicky was stretched and taking him. And he cried out against Joe’s lips, moving faster now. His cock slicking their stomachs with precum. 

“You feel so good,” Joe whispered, touching again where he pushed into Nicky. Shivering, fucking up into him a little harder. The muscles of his arm strained but it was worth it to feel their bodies joined. For hear the wild moans it drew from Nicky’s mouth. “Like you were made for me, my Niccolò.” 

“I was,” Nicky gasped, voice wrecked, lips against Joe’s jaw. “I was made for you, _hayati_ , you know this. Please, please, Yusuf.”

Joe closed his eyes and pulled Nicky closer. Their chests pressed against one another. Their thrusts less coordinated, Joe barely pulling back, only rutting into him. Again and again. Nicky moaning every time, their stomachs a slick mess. Nicky’s body went very taught, Joe’s fingers touching again where he was fucking into him, and Nicky released between them in a thick flood. Joe let out a broken moan, his lips found Nicky’s and he kissed him hard and messy as he came. Nicky’s body practically milking his cock, pulling every drop from him as he filled him. And tears did fall then. Both of their faces wet with them. 

They stayed like that. Joe halfway to sitting up, arm shaking with the strain of pushing up. His arm tight around Nicky as he sat in his lap. Nicky collapsed against body, boneless and breathing hard, quietly crying as he pressed his face into Joe’s neck. 

Joe slowly lay back, bringing Nicky with him. Not ready to pull out and sever that intimate connection. Not when they were both in this state. 

After a while Nicky seemed to calm. “You don’t really want-“ Nicky began, breathless and gently teasing, despite his voice still being wet with tears.

Joe cut him off with a firm kiss. “No,” he said. “I absolutely do not. I was just-“

”I know,” Nicky interrupted, kissing him again. “I know. Although we did have that period where we quite enjoyed making a show of it.”

Joe laughed softly, looking at Nicky with bright eyes that crinkled at the corners with his happiness despite the drying tears on his cheeks. “I remember.”

They shifted, Joe pulling out of Nicky carefully and they both groaned. He could have stayed inside of him, waited until he was hard again and taken him again. It was tempting. But they needed a shower. Or maybe he wanted Nicky inside of him. He wasn’t sure. Maybe both.

“I love you, I love that smile,” Nicky said, voice soft and serious, head sinking into the pillow as they both lay down again.

They lay facing one another, legs entwined, arms around one another. Truly, Joe thought, they needed a wash. But they were the kind of filthy he could relish in a while longer.

”I love you,” he whispered. “Some days I truly just want to lay forever beside you, looking at you, and telling you exactly how grateful I am to have you.”

It could have been so different. Had they gone their separate ways after they finally stopped trying to kill one another, had they never moved passed who they had been when they met, the things that had been done. What if they had they never admitted their desires, their affections. He didn’t always believe in destiny as Nicky did, but when it came to their love, it was hard not to. But had it gone differently, had they never had this- would he be as bitter and angry as Booker?

“This life can be hard but it’s a gift. He throws it away,” Nicky said, as if reading his mind. “Even Andy, after all that has happened, is not so bitter and alone as Booker. Our family means something to her, our love for her and hers for us, it is something that matters to her. Perhaps his true punishment is never finding the joy or love in any of it.” Nicky’s voice soft and serious. His fingers pushed into Joe’s curls. So gentle. “I want that too sometimes,” he breathed out. “To just lay beside you and admire you forever.”

Joe was smiling again, he couldn’t help it.

Once, a very long time ago they had said similar words. Wanting to lay together forever and put down their blades. They’d been laid out on all the furs and blankets and cloaks they’d possessed between them. A softer bed than they’d had in weeks of traveling. They’d been fully naked, their bodies lit by their fire and the full moon. Lulled by the sounds of the river they’d camped beside. But it hadn’t been any of those things that made the memory so strong in his mind. It was the first time they’d made love. Nearly a week after he’d first kissed Nicky.

Joe had watched Niccolò set their camp that night with curious apprehension. Unsure why he was laying out all their blankets, their cloaks. One bed was usual. Even before he had kissed Niccolò, they’d long been sharing one sleeping spot. That comfort something they’d allowed themselves for some time. Niccolò slept better with the weight of Yusef’s arms around him, and Yusuf slept better knowing Niccolò- who woke faster and sharper than he- was there to protect his front.

But that night had been different. Niccolò has been different. Uncertain and nervous but determined. It wasn’t that neither of them had ever been with another man. It was the weight of what lay between, the love and the trust and the need. All the things they were only just admitting and accepting. It was the weight of what had been between them. The violence and hate and distrust. And they’d been right to feel the weight of it all. To take it as seriously as they did. That night changed everything. All for the better, always for the better, if it meant being closer to his Niccolò. 

”Yusuf,” Nicky said softly, tugging his curls gently, bringing him back to the present. “Where did you go?”

”The first night we were together,” he answered easily. “How we said something similar after and it felt like vows being made. That we would be together from that point until forever.”

”If they were vows, we’ve kept them,” Nicky said. 

”We have,” Joe agreed. “And will continue to.”

”No matter who or what we must fight,” Nicky murmured, kissing him sweetly. “Come shower with me,” he offered. “We both need one.” He smiled and kissed Joe again. 

”If you bring the oil with us.”

Nicky raised an eyebrow but nodded. Joe’s expression softened. He sat up with a groan and pulled Nicky with him. his hand curled around the side of his neck and he kissed him hard and deep, a quiet moan building in his chest. When they parted they were breathing heavily again. 

“I want to feel you inside of me,” he murmured, pressing close to him. “I need it.” 

Nicky nodded. He grabbed bottle of oil from the stand and showed it to Joe with a small smile.

”Come, _amore mio_ ,” he said, grinning over his shoulder at Joe. “Let me take care of you now.”

Joe more than happily followed after him.   
  


* * *

* * *

Nicky loved a bargain. He liked to haggle, liked the thrill of going back and forth until a fair deal had been made. He’d loved it from the moment Joe had shared with him the art of it. And for his part Joe had always enjoyed watching him. It was no different now. Joe pulled the bill of his cap further down his head to block the late afternoon sun and his dark eyes stayed on Nicky. 

He had no idea what on earth Nicky was even haggling for, but he could hear the good natured back and forth. There were several younger ladies currently at the stall beside him watching with interest as well. It only made Joe smile wider. He couldn’t blame them after all. Two weeks of the constant sun had darkened Nicky’s pale skin somewhat and lightened hair that hadn’t been cut in months. And considering Joe had packed for this vacation his clothes actually fit his body for once. He loved his Niccolò, but truly fashion had never been his forte. Tragically so.

He let his eyes travel up and then down Nicky’s body, enjoying the sight. And when Nicky turned away- having made his desired deal- he was clearly caught. Nicky was smirking as he made his way back to Joe. Joe’s gaze went back and forth between the group of young woman watching Nicky and Nicky himself. 

“You’re looking very smug for someone who _didn’t_ just spend fifteen minutes talking down an overpriced vendor,” Nicky said, coming to stand before him. 

Joe laughed and caught his hips, bringing him in closer. Nicky went with it, free hand lifting to turn the cap backwards. The other, holding the bag, was pressed against Joe’s chest. A few looks were cast in their direction but for the most part the crowd of the market ignored them. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the disappointed looks of Nicky’s admirers. 

“Perhaps I’m looking as smug as one should when his lover is such a capable haggler,” he said teasingly. 

Nicky gave him a flat look and instead of answering took his hands from Joe’s chest and opened the small paper bag he’d brought back over with him. He took from it a thick but intricately worked silver bracelet. A handsome piece. Joe found himself smiling all the wider. 

”Have you taken to wearing jewelry, _hayati_?” he asked, still smiling.

Nicky didn’t even answer him. Only took one of Joe’s hands from his hips and raised it so he could slip the intricate piece onto his wrist. He brought it to his lips after, pressing a kiss to the small bit of skin the cuff left bare. Joe smiled and let his fingers brush Nicky’s cheek. 

”It’s beautiful,” he said softly. “And it was a bargain, so I must love it even more.”

Nicky’s smile was so wide and bright that Joe’s breath caught in his chest. It seemed a lifetime ago that he’d felt this light, this happy. When truthfully just a couple of months ago he and Nicky had been traveling just for the sake of traveling, still away from the others. Doing the occasional small job when they came across people in trouble. Waiting for Andy to call them back together. 

But so much had happened. Between then and this moment. He tried to tell himself all that mattered was that they had survived. And he knew, in the end, that it was what mattered most. The rest they could heal from. 

“It looks as good on you as I thought it would,” Nicky said, drawing him from his thoughts as if he knew where they were taking him. “I was thinking we could go for a swim before the day gets much later.” 

Joe grinned and nodded. His hands caught Nicky’s face and he kissed him hard. Smiling against his lips. Allah, he loved him so. But they didn’t leave from the market. Instead they kept up their meandering path, stopping at vendors that held anything that caught their eyes. Until the strands of music hit their ears. 

Joe, feeling more himself than he had since Booker’s betrayal, took Nicky’s hand and led him closer to the music. He spun him as they came upon the small band and Nicky fell easily into his lead. Just like their fighting, their dancing was instinctual. They moved together and followed one another’s lead. Nicky’s laughter was soft and his smile bright and it was all Joe needed in the world right now. These last few weeks with Nicky, their little house away from everything but the sea, all of it was exactly what he’d needed. 

He pulled Nicky close, holding their joined hands against his chest and wrapping his arm tight around his back. 

They were barely moving now. Swaying more than dancing. It didn’t matter. It was the closeness. The small joy in a very long life. He didn’t want to die. He never wanted to die. Not if it meant no longer having moments like these. He knew how the years could weigh. And he knew how lucky he was to have Niccolò. But he could not understand Booker’s betrayal. Perhaps in one hundred years. Perhaps. 

But it’s impossible to not consider that Booker had tried to take this from him. These moments. Dancing in the sun with Nicky.   
  
There had been a time in Italy where something similar had occurred. Joe had spun Nicky out of his arms and Nicky had caught Andy and began dancing with her. Laughing Joe had grasped Booker from where he’d been sitting on the edge of a fountain and spun him around. He was awkward and heavy footed. He’d kept trying to take the lead. They had laughed about it. It had been a good day. 

He’d thought his brother was happy with them. Instead he had held onto that bitterness. What would he know about the weight of all these years alone? As if his family was not a thousand years in the past. Beyond dust now. Nothing more. As if he had not fought off invaders only to watch them massacre his people. How many years had he and Nicky hated each other. There hadn’t been any comfort then. He knew the pain. 

“Come back to me,” Nicky said softly. His hand slipped beneath the back of Joe’s shirt, long fingers spreading across warm skin. “You wandered again.”

He nodded and met Nicky’s eyes. He rested his head against Nicky’s forehead and breathed out. 

”I wish I understood,” he admitted. “I keep trying to but all I can remember is the times I thought he was happy. And then I’m furious all over again.”

”We need time, _amore mio_. It’s not something easily understood,” Nicky said softly. His jaw was tense. The only sign that he too was furious. “Or forgiven.”

Joe was quiet, thoughtful. They kept dancing and the band kept playing and other people were dancing as well. They kept on this way until the sun shifted and he knew if they didn’t leave now Nicky wouldn’t get his swim. 

”We should go,” he murmured. 

Nicky’s head lifted. He pressed a kiss to Joe’s mouth and when he pulled away he was smiling softly. “Only if we go back to the house and swim there. Naked.”

Joe’s laughter was loud and he kissed Nicky again before he’d even fully stopped.

”Terms I can easily agree to,” he assured him. 

”I love you, Yusuf. Love of my eternal life. That is all that really matters here.”

”I love you, Niccolò,” Joe murmured. “Love of all my lives. We are here and I love you.”

All the rest they would figure out together. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure indulgence. I just wanted them to get away and talk their feelings out and be happy. So. There it is.


End file.
